I'm a cop and I got ANOTHER 911 hang up Part 5
I was starting to question my own sanity. There’s no way I was sitting in that cabin talking to a ghost. I even held the coffee mug in my hand to prove it. There was no polite way of asking the question I had pounding in my mind like a hammer on a nail. I decide to just ask Samantha, “Well, are you sure your Grandma is dead?” I couldn’t tell if Samantha was offended or just surprised by my question. She thought about it for a moment and said, “Well, yeah. I mean, I think so. Why would my aunt lie to me about that? That was her mother.” I asked for clarification, “So this aunt of yours would be your mother’s aunt too, right? So she’s actually your great aunt?” Samantha nodded her head in agreeance. “Yes, I just never have called her or thought of her as a great aunt since she’s pretty young because of how old my mom was when she had me.” I pressed her for more details. “Do you remember exactly what your aunt told you?” Samantha’s glance moved to the upper right of the room while she was deep in thought. Her eyes came back down and met mine as she answered, “Yeah, I remember when she got the phone call. She said it was the police department and they notified her Grandma Rose had passed. My aunt was so upset because when she asked for the body and what next steps she could take, they told her that because there was no family left in the area it took them a long time to contact next of kin, at which point Grandma Rose had already been cremated. It broke my aunt’s heart. It seemed like every time she tried to call the station to ask questions they told her everything was gone and there was no need for her to come up for anything.” I began to wonder if the mole had something to do with this. “Oh Samantha… I don’t know what’s going on here but your Grandma Rose is very much still alive.” Samantha began to tear up and before she broke down I stopped her and said, “Here. Let me write down her address for you and you can go see her yourself. She will be so much happier that you’re bringing this mug back than me.” I wrote down the address, handed the mug to Samantha and the puzzle pieces began coming together. What if the mole in the department is behind this all? Why? I thought about all of the phone complications Rose was having and blaming Samuel for them. Why didn’t Rose try to call any of her family? Did she ever try? Did someone cross her phone wires so that any outgoing calls would be screened first? If this is the case, it has to be related to whoever has the ability to make all of those 911 hang ups and knows the phone system inside and out. I walked into my kitchen to grab another glass of wine and realized that there’s only one thing that could calm my mind more than wine. My Aunt Maggie. I decided to take a weekend getaway to Aunt Maggie’s. She’s been there for me all my life and if anyone could help me sort through all of this, it’s her. I always feel better after speaking with her and spending time on her secluded farm. She just has a way of putting things into perspective; between her classic farmhouse, vibrant garden, and acres of nothing but fields, it’s the perfect cocktail for relaxation. I grabbed my phone and dialed her number. The sweet voice I know so well answered the phone with an almost singing greeting, “Helloooo!” “Hi Aunt Maggie!" “Hi Honey. How are you?” “Can I come and spend the weekend with you? I need a mini vacay right now.” “Sure, you know you are ALWAYS welcome in my home.” “Thank you so much! Do you mind if I bring Hallie with me?” “Hallie? Who’s Hallie? Is this a new friend?” “No, it’s my cat I recently adopted.” “Oh, I didn’t know you got a cat. Your dad didn’t mention your cat when we last spoke. I’m looking forward to meeting her. Drive safely and I’ll see you soon.” I grabbed some clean clothes from the closet and my toiletries from the bathroom. Packing took about 10 minutes. I then collected Hallie’s food, bowls, bed, litter box and supplies. It took me longer to pack her stuff than mine. Once I had everything ready, I loaded the bags into the car, grabbed Hallie, put her in her new carrier, and headed for Aunt Maggie’s. I immediately began to feel my stress level decline as I pulled out of my driveway. After a short drive, I arrived at Aunt Maggie’s home. It was a beautiful, large, two story farm house with a wraparound porch. She took great pride in her home and spent countless hours tending to the colorful flower beds that lined the long front walk and driveway. An avid gardener and home cook, her vegetable beds were green and lush. Clearly all the recent rain had helped her crops. Since I arrived later in the day, I was not surprised to see her sitting on the front porch working a crossword puzzle and enjoying a cool glass of lemonade. I knew she was waiting for me to arrive and that made me feel so loved. Once she saw me, she stood up, placed her crossword book in a basket beside the front door and walked down the front stairs to meet me. It was so nice to see her and I knew Hallie was ready to get out of her carrier. She’d been meowing for the last 15 minutes of the ride. I guess she was just afraid of the unknown, I certainly can relate to that. “Hi Sarah, how was your trip?” “It was good. No traffic which was nice. I think I made the drive just between storms, too.” “That’s good. I was worried you would have to take an alternate route with all of the storm damage in the area.” I then remembered just how bad the storm damage was in some of the areas. Aunt Maggie’s place luckily seemed to escape the brunt of the storm. “Did you have any storm damage? It looks like you got pretty lucky.“ “Oh, I’m fine. There was a little water in the basement and garage, but nothing that I couldn’t handle. It sounds like your new friend would like to get out of the car so how about we take her inside and I’ll make you dinner. I have stuffed chicken breasts in the oven and green beans on the stove.“ As I walked through the front door, I could smell the chicken, the freshly baked bread resting on the kitchen island, and the faint traces of a homemade peach pie. Oh, how wonderful it was to be here. It reminded me of all the times I would stay with Aunt Maggie as a young child when my dad was working double shifts. Sometimes I really miss those days. “Sarah, do you mind setting the table? I just need to pull the chicken out of the oven and rinse the green beans. Then, everything should be ready to eat.” “Sure, I can handle that. Are the dishes still in the same cupboard?” “Yes, center section, lower shelf. The silverware is in the drawer beside the refrigerator.” I immediately set the table and helped Aunt Maggie carry the heavy pots to the table. She really made a lot of food for just the 2 of us, but I guess after making such large meals for so many years, she couldn’t break the habit. We sat and began to load our plates. Everything smelled delicious and tasted incredible. I didn’t realize until the first bite how much I missed my aunt’s cooking. “Everything’s wonderful! I forgot how amazing your stuffed chicken breasts taste.” “Well thank you, but I can’t take all the credit. The butcher shop always gives me the best cuts of meats and breasts. That makes the biggest difference when you are cooking.” We enjoyed dinner and I ate so much food I could hardly move. I helped Aunt Maggie clear the table, load the dishwasher and put away the left overs. We then retired to the front porch to enjoy a glass of Riesling and the cool evening air. “So how’s work? Are you busy?” she asked. “Oh, you have no idea. Between all of the storm damage calls and the murder case I caught last week, things have been crazy. I’ll be very happy once things return to normal and it finally stops raining. “ “Oh, are you on that Patch Lane murder case I saw that on the news? I’m glad you caught the guy. That jerk was no good from the word go. I guess his luck finally ran out.” Since Aunt Maggie had grown up and lived in my area years ago, I thought she may be able to share some details about the Patch Lane farm. “Did you know Joseph Muller?” “Yes, I did. Well, sort of. I never met him, but he used to call the insurance company where I worked all the time to report property damages on the farm. We handled and processed the insurance claims for his farm insurance provider since they didn’t have a local office in the area. They found it was more feasible to sub out all the claim work. He always seemed to have a “problem” with his property, esp. after a storm or renovation project. One time, he called and reported that someone had dug up one of his fields and he “lost” a $10, 000 crop of corn. We didn’t handle crop damage claims but he wouldn’t stop calling. He claimed he had property damage as well, so the firm sent a field technician to investigate. Turned out he had dug up the field himself and had accidentally hit an unmarked utility line that sparked and partially burned the field. He was extremely lucky that the utility company didn’t press charges or sue him for the repair costs. We had a tough supervisor at the time and he finally intervened and convinced the insurance company to terminate his coverage based on the fraudulent claim.” My aunt went on to tell me that Joseph had a girlfriend working at the insurance firm and she had tried to reinstate his coverage without a supervisor’s authorization but was fired when they discovered the policy change. Aunt Maggie had piqued my interest. It was amazing to me that she knew all of this. “Do you remember her name?” “Yes, I do. Her name was Bettie Ann but everyone called her Beat. I think her married name was Smith or Smooth or something like that. I’m not sure if she changed it after her divorce. I lost track of her after she left the company.” How ironic. Chief Fox’s secretary was named Bettie Ann and he called her Beat Box. I couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s so funny?” Aunt Maggie asked. “Well, Chief Fox’s secretary is named Bettie Ann and sometimes he will call her Beat Box. We always laugh about it since we didn’t think that Chief Fox knew what a beat box was.” “Oh, wait a minute. I’ll bet your Beat Box is the same one I worked with all those years ago. There can’t be too many women in town called “Beat.” If it’s the same person, she’d be close to my age or maybe a few years older than I am. I haven’t seen her in years, but she used to have the prettiest chestnut brown hair. She always wore it in an old updo style with a black ribbon tied around it. She always thought she looked like a movie starlet but if you asked me, she looked more like a cartoon character.” I couldn’t believe it! The Chief’s secretary had the same hairstyle. It had to be the same person. I pulled out my phone and began to scroll through my photos from our last department holiday party. I knew I had a photo of her and I wanted to see if Aunt Maggie recognized her. I found one and enlarged the portion with Beat Box. “Does this look like her?” Aunt Maggie studied the photo and said, “Yes, that’s her. She’s gained a lot of weight and you can tell she colors her hair, but that looks like her.” I began to wonder and talked to myself out loud, “How could Chief Fox not have known this? Why would he hire her then?” To my surprise, Aunt Maggie actually responded to my rhetorical question. “Well I can’t say for certain, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Beat was made to sign a confidentiality agreement to not disclose her termination. Plus, it was much easier back then to simply leave things off of your resume. Now you can’t get away with that because of all the technology and ways to check.” My mind began to race. Could Beat Box be the mole in the department?? Was the Chief aware or Heaven forbid, could he be part of the leak? Chief was a straight shooter. Granted, a sexist straight shooter, but nonetheless he was a fervent supporter of the justice system so I really didn’t think he could be involved, but I had to be sure. Peoples lives were at risk. We stayed outside just long enough to capture the sunset. Aunt Maggie and I then moved inside and reclined on the sofa. She always watched the nightly news at 10pm so I knew she wouldn’t want to miss it. I didn’t want to worry her about Beat Box so I changed the conversation to a lighter topic, Hallie. That wonderful little purr monster had won my aunt’s heart and seemed totally at home nestled on my aunt’s wingback chair. “Your little friend is an angel. I’m so glad you have her to keep you company.” “She is. I never knew I could love her as much as I do. I wasn’t looking for a cat, but now I can’t imagine life without her.” I glanced at the mantle clock and it was almost time for the nightly news. I decided to refill our wine glasses and grabbed some popcorn from the kitchen. Aunt Maggie loved popcorn, so I knew she would enjoy sharing a bowl with me. I settled on the couch and covered my legs with the throw. I didn’t have to call Hallie. She leapt from the back of the chair and landed squarely on my lap. I swear this cat has a blanket radar. Aunt Maggie laughed and commented on Hallie’s agility. Clearly her paw felt much better and was healing. The news began promptly at 10pm and the lead off story was no shocker—more rain in the forecast. Aunt Maggie was the first to comment. “I swear, if it rains much more, I’ll have to build an ark!” I agreed and realized that I was probably in for a rough return to work. We would probably be inundated with calls for flooded basements, trapped elderly, and stupid motorist calls for individuals who believed their vehicles could double as boats when the water rose too high for driving. Seriously, the amount of money the department spends rescuing these people could be better used for new gear and additional officers. The next stories talked about the weather disruption to the local baseball league game schedule and land slides in the local community. Apparently, the league supervisors were discussing a shortened season and wanted public feedback at the next meeting. The heavy rains had caused local hillsides to collapse which created lengthy traffic detours along busy highways. After a short commercial break, the news anchor continued with the top stories. To my surprise it was an update to the Patch Lane murder case. “Earlier today, accused murder Joseph Muller posted bail of 1 million dollars and walked out of the local county jail. His trial is set to begin sometime in early 2019.” What. The. Hell. That bastard was supposed to be remanded until trial based on flight risk! Who posted the bail and what was that judge thinking?? I immediately texted Tim. “Did you see that Muller posted bail?” Instead of texting, Tim was calling me. “Listen, I know you are on vacation but we have a huge problem. Muller flew the coop and the Marshals are worried he’s after you. They are looking for him now, but there’s no telling where he’s gone. They want your location so they can send backup. This guy has a score to settle with you.” “Tim, why did the judge give him bail?? This is a capital murder case.” “Apparently his lawyer argued that he has advanced prostate cancer and requires pain management and chemotherapy treatment that cannot be provided in the prison. The judge bought the argument and set bail at $1 million dollars. No one thought he would be able to post it, but within 30 minutes, he was walking out the doors.” “Who posted the bail?” “Well, that’s another problem. The paperwork is missing and the camera above the bail office was not functioning. We have no visual of who posted that bail. If you asked me, it looks like Mr. Muller had some help. The Marshals were at the station all day following up on the case and it seems that log records are not correct and key pieces of evidence are missing from the lock-up. Needless to say, it was a real shit storm and Chief is not happy. The suits were all over his ass. They are threatening to pull rank and ask the State Attorney General to intervene. Barkley, I think we have a mole in the department and I’m worried about you.” “Tim, I have to go. It looks like the Marshals are calling me.” “Barkley, be careful. Watch your back.” He didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know. I answered the incoming call and it was one of the Marshals I had met during the investigation. “Barkley, we need to meet-- now. What is your location? Muller is in the wind and we have no solid leads to his whereabouts.” “I’m visiting family one county over. I can meet you." “No, we will come to you. Stay at your location. We will be there in 20 minutes.” True to his word, Marshal Compton and a few of his cavalry arrived within 20 minutes and it had begun to rain. He rushed to the front door and Aunt Maggie left him inside. Clearly she was worried about me. “Hi, I’m Maggie, Sarah’s aunt. “ “Hello Ma’am. I’m Marshal Compton with the US Marshals. I’m here to talk with Officer Barkley.” As I walked around the corner Marshal Compton redirected his conversation to me, “Is there somewhere we can speak privately?” “We can talk here in the living room. My aunt can stay as I believe you will be interested in some information she shared with me.” “Protocol dictates that we talk privately but if you feel her information has a direct bearing on the investigation, we will allow her to stay.” “Yes, you will want to hear what she has to say.” Aunt Maggie offered the Marshals a glass of lemonade and we walked to the living room. We sat down and the Marshals began to talk. “We were recently alerted to inconsistencies with the Patch Lane paperwork by the District Attorney’s office and began to fear that there may be a saboteur in the department. We began to identify individuals with access to evidence and who would have the ability to alter documentation. Since your department is small, we had a handful of suspects and we began to evaluate each one. Some of those individuals were quickly ruled out; others remained under investigation until we could clear them. When we were at the station last week I noticed Chief’s secretary, Ms. Rhodes, pulled out of the station parking lot in a newer Audi R8.” I’m not the best with cars but I did remember a lot of the guys drooled over her new car when she got it a year ago. “Oh yeah that car that’s made for someone like 40 years younger than her? I know what you’re talking about. What’s the significance?” The Marshal continued, “It sparked my curiosity so I began to suspect there was more to Miss Rhodes. I began to investigate her financials because there is absolutely no way she could afford that car on a police secretary salary. Hell, I can’t even afford that car and my wife is a lawyer. Clearly, she has other income that she is not reporting on her annual tax returns. We also took a look at her credit report. The woman has a serious shopping issue.” Marshal Compton paused for a moment and then resumed. “We have reason to believe that she is somehow involved with the Michelle Kline murder but we are uncertain as to the extent of her involvement. We are awaiting a court order to dig deeper on the financials.” Aunt Maggie then repeated her story of Beat’s prior work experience and subsequent dismissal to the Marshals. They asked questions, some that Aunt Maggie could answer, others she couldn’t. One lingering question that no one could answer was why Beat would lure Michelle out of Witness Protection now? It made no sense. As quick as I could finish my thought, I heard a gunshot outside the window. Category:Reddit Pastas